


confessional

by minshuas



Series: between two hearts, two lungs, two mouths [1]
Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 02:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12223560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minshuas/pseuds/minshuas
Summary: Youngbin knows better than to put his needs above the needs of the group, but he has to get this off his chest or he's going to burn up. He's going to burn up just like a dying star because Juho can put his hands on him and he feels like a whole universe has come alive in his chest, and he has no idea how Juho feels.





	confessional

**Author's Note:**

> pls appreciate sf9,  
> also zuho/youngbin is love

_This is absolutely, completely irresponsible_. Youngbin knows better than to jeopardize the group’s reputation by indulging in his own selfish desires. It is a responsibility that comes with being the leader. He just understands that he has to set his own feelings aside in order to govern over the group. The group will always matter more than his feelings, especially when his feelings could put the group in immediate danger of… _of what?_ That Youngbin couldn’t answer because he didn’t know what would happen. The company wouldn’t react well but the members? He can’t make predictions on what they would say or how they would feel. They might be uncomfortable, but they also might accept them with open arms.

 _Them_. This issue isn’t just Youngbin’s alone, although it is not yet an issue between him and another. If he acts, then it will be. He knows that he should just ignore the way his chest feels like there is a universe swelling there, but if he does, then he might regret it for the rest of his life. He’s an idol. An idol’s job is to be pleasant, talented, and seemingly both available and unavailable. Idols are meant to be desired, but not had, and he supposed that if he thought about it, then it technically applied between idols. Youngbin could not, _shouldn’t ever_ , desire a fellow idol. It would be just as hard to hold them as it would be for someone outside of the idol industry to hold onto him. As the leader of an idol group, he should just know better.

Then why is he tugging desperately at Juho’s arm, trying to get him into the dressing room ten minutes before their live show? If he truly knows better, then why isn’t he shaking the desperation from his bones and readying himself for the stage? Why can’t he stop his hands from fumbling with the lock until both are trapped, pressed almost impossibly close to one another?

It is because with as much as he knows about this life, he cannot transcend his feelings. He’s tried to ignore the pestering feelings whenever he saw a boy with rumpled hair and mesmerizing eyes look upon him for a second too long. He’s tried to ignore the way his heart would hammer whenever Juho would brush against his arm, his side, his leg. He’s tried to ignore the electricity in the air whenever Juho’s gaze met his in the midst of a performance. All of it is too much for Youngbin to ignore at once.

He cannot avoid feelings in his chest because they travel throughout his body. He’s engulfed by his feelings, and he has a right to be. There is so much that he always has to shoulder for the good of the group, but this is something that he refuses to carry. For once, he believes that he owes it to himself to be able to unload this weight. It might end up breaking him still, but he’d rather risk it then continue to live while constantly denying himself of who he is.

“What—?” Juho is trying to ask something, but there are seven other members bustling around them, voices loud. Alongside their cacophony is the noise of their stylists, bustling around as they try to keep hair from falling into eyes and making last minute touch-ups to makeup. Juho and Youngbin are probably going to miss out on the fussing of their already composed outfits. Amidst a crowd, Youngbin finds a way to keep them partially alone. The noise actually ends up aiding because he’s sure that if he speaks quietly, then his voice will be washed out. Only Juho will hear his undoing. If he has to suffer, he will suffer alone without an audience.

There must be something about his expression that stops the words on Juho’s tongue, because suddenly, he freezes. He is staring at Youngbin and Youngbin has no idea if he’s scared or excited or just waiting. “Hear me out,” is how Youngbin decides to start. He’s a rapper, so usually he can think of words on the spot, but Juho takes all the words out of his mouth, takes all the air from his lungs. “Just hear me out before you totally leave.” _I’m the leader, I shouldn’t be saying anything like this to any of them… It isn’t fair. I guide them and now… What am I doing now?_ Juho doesn’t fold his arms or close his body off to Youngbin at all. He seems to understand the seriousness of the situation, maybe he even hears the desperation in his voice. “I…”

The words should be coming, but they don’t. He doesn’t know how to convey his emotions without it all getting it stuck in his throat. “Youngbin…?” Juho asks. It might be his imagination, but Juho is leaning closer. His fingers ghost against Youngbin’s wrist and he will be able to feel his pulse. All of it will be given away in a matter of heartbeats. Or just maybe, his heart will stop from how gentle his touch is. “You can tell me anything.” Youngbin is used to Juho joking, smiling. His hard angles going soft. Now he’s softening, but in a different way. He doesn’t know if he likes how Juho’s face transforms, but mostly because he doesn’t understand what it means.

In response, Youngbin lifts his own hand to brush across Juho’s cheek. There’s a tenderness in the gesture that Juho may not understand, or may not have realized, but that is now dawning upon him. Youngbin can watch the realization overtake him microexpression by microexpression. “What if I’m scared to tell you everything?” Youngbin asks. It is easier than an admission. Soon, Juho will know what this conversation is and he can judge it however he likes. Youngbin notices that his fingers have curled around his wrist now. Instead of pushing him away, he’s holding fast to him. It would be too hopeful of Youngbin to think that it is sign.

He wonders if the inside of Juho’s mouth also feels like sandpaper. It takes so long for him to respond. In no time, the staff and members will be calling for them, trying to find them so that they can take the stage. Youngbin doesn’t ever want to be found out. If he could exist in this moment forever, then he would. Right now, it is the calm before the storm. Everything is in the balance between right and wrong. Juho’s voice wavers when he speaks, “You don’t have to be.” There’s a hesitation surrounding them, or something more complicated than that. Neither of them understand it enough to know, especially not Youngbin. He moves his hand until his palm is cradling Juho’s cheek.

 _What does he mean?_ Youngbin wants to ask him if he knows, if he somehow figured it all out in the short amount of time they’ve had together. He brushes his thumb against Juho’s jawline and it tenses underneath his touch, then immediately relaxes. Juho moves his hand up the expanse of Youngbin’s arm, tickling him with how light his touch is. Instead of laughing though, he shivers. His hand goes no higher than his bicep, but that’s all he needs. All he needs is to be close to Juho, especially right now. “I don’t know if I can say what I need to…” It is hard to breathe.

“Please,” he thinks he imagines Juho’s voice begging. It must be his own, but Juho is the one who is pressing his hand to the back of Youngbin’s neck and pulling him in. There isn’t much distance between them, but with every movement, Youngbin finds it harder to breathe. Suddenly, the dressing room is much too hot. There are too many people milling about. “You can try.”

He tries to suck in a breath and it gets caught in his throat. “I don’t have to use words.”

It’s true. Youngbin doesn’t exactly have to say words to convey this feeling, but he does want Juho to completely understand. Instead of Juho manipulating their movements, Youngbin meets him halfway, or until their foreheads are pressed to each other. “Can I…?” It embarrasses him to ask, but there’s too much being left unsaid now. As the leader, he has to take care of the group. He has to make sure that they understand what he’s trying to communicate.

He might imagine it, but Juho nods. Suddenly, it all feels too real. He no longer knows how to move in relation to Juho. All he knows is that Juho’s eyes are slipping closed and there is this magnetic pull for him to follow suit. Juho’s nose brushes up against his cheek, then travels down the slope of his nose before Juho’s lips are covering Youngbin’s own. Youngbin doesn’t need to lead him into this when Juho is more than willing to meet him halfway. He wonders if Juho is doing this because he truly wants to kiss him or if he is just doing it because he figured it out.

It doesn’t feel like a goodbye of any sort.

Youngbin moves forward and presses Juho up against the wall. His movement jostles them, but it doesn’t turn the kiss from soft to hard. He continues to control the gentle press of lips, unsure of how far he might be able to push this or how long it will even last. His hands move to cup Juho’s face, gentle in their motions as he makes sure to kiss him close-lipped and with all the softness he can muster. If he knows one thing, then he knows that Juho only deserves the gentlest touches. Even so, Juho is not as soft. His hands grip the front of his shirt desperately, then travel to grab his hips and keep him close. There’s nothing sexual behind his touch, but there is a neediness.

His hand begins to travel up to tangle in Juho’s hair just when someone bangs on the door with the palm of their hand. “We gotta get going!” It’s Jaeyoon. Youngbin jumps out of his skin, startling Juho when he does. Both of them knock their teeth together almost painfully. Neither of them dares to breathe, pressing a hand over Juho’s mouth without applying any pressure. In his peripheral vision, he catches sight of the smile stretching across Juho’s face. Some part of him thinks that this is amusing and Youngbin has no idea how to deal with it. There’s a moment of sheer panic where Youngbin wonders if Jaeyoon has seen both of them in here, and if he had, then what did he think of it? That they might have been attempting to help each other change? That both are having a private conversation? That they might be doing exactly what they are? “Hurry up!” Jaeyoon seems to stay there for a minute, maybe wondering what’s happening, then he’s gone along with all the other members who are probably being fitted with their microphones.

Juho laughs breathlessly, pressing himself against the wall. His hands fall from Youngbin’s hips and are defensively raised. “I can’t believe that happened.” He swipes his fingers through his hair, effectively messing up all the stylist’s hard work. “I was so scared that he was going to break the door down. That’s something our manager would do.” He starts laughing and it sounds like a cross between a cough and the most wonderful sound in the world. Youngbin wants to laugh alongside him, but he’s too struck. A wild laugh escapes him as he moves away from Juho. He doesn’t mean to laugh, doesn’t think it is appropriate, but his laugh has Juho tumbling into laughter too.

Someone else pounds on the door to the dressing room. “Really, come on!” It is Chanhee, and Youngbin has to agree with his impatient tone. They have to get out there before they get in trouble. Youngbin really doesn’t want Juho to get into a bunch of trouble when this was all his fault anyway.

“Coming!” Youngbin calls in response this time. Chanhee heaves a sigh and then he seems to go back to wherever the others are waiting. Before he unlocks the door, Youngbin looks over at Juho. His eyes are full of a fondness that is too deep for Youngbin to be on the receiving end. He leans over, quick, and presses his lips against Juho’s chastely. Juho doesn’t look surprised, but instead he smiles, as bright as the sun. “We have to talk about this later.” Youngbin says, smoothing down Juho’s hair to the best of his ability. He doesn’t want to mess it up any more than it already is. Juho bends down to let him after nodding. They _should_ talk about this later.

“Really, guys!” comes Sanghyuk’s irritated voice. Youngbin tuts, pushing the door open after he unlatches it. Juho follows him out and all Sanghyuk can do is stare at them, not fully comprehending. Maybe he doesn’t even think about what they could have been doing. However innocent it had been between them, it still was taboo. “What were you two even doing in there?” When they don’t answer aside from sharing a look, Sanghyuk just shakes his head. “Nevermind, we gotta get out there.”

Before Youngbin can worry it over anymore, Juho leans into him and presses his lip fleetingly to his temple. “Later,” he agrees, then follows after Sanghyuk, leaving Youngbin alone to be the member late to take the stage.


End file.
